


A Religious Experience

by BleedingInk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Multi, Oral Sex, Pegging, Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 10:57:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4177260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingInk/pseuds/BleedingInk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meg and Castiel fuck Dean into an epiphany. (Written for the SPN Rare Fest, prompt nº 34).</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Religious Experience

Dean wasn’t exactly sure of who started it. They were on Castiel’s apartment, passing a blunt around and laughing their asses off, because when you’re that high, everything is hilarious, but particularly the fact that your best friends had just described sex with himself as a “religious experience.”

“I am completely serious,” he told them, as Meg and Dean cracked up on the carpet. “If achieved through certain means, an orgasm can be as intense as an epiphany and…”

“So let me see if I’m getting this,” Dean interrupted him. “You’re saying that if I suck your dick right now, I might start believing in God?”

Castiel turned around on the couch where he was lying and stared directly at Dean’s face with blue eyes that looked slightly darker than usual due to being so bloodshot.

“That’s an enticing idea,” he commented, with a smile that was almost predatory. “I'm not saying you will start worshipping a higher power, but you might discover some surprising truths about yourself, Dean.”

Dean realized he had not thought that joke through. They all knew about Castiel’s liberal lifestyle and he often mentioned his affaires with both men and women. He identified himself as “pansexual”, whatever the hell that meant, and he had a casual way of going about sex that made Dean slightly uncomfortable. Of course, that was nothing compared to the things Meg assured them she’d done. She still recounted the story of the date that took her to a sex dungeon as a prank and upon seeing what was going on around her, Meg had muttered: “Huh. I wanna try that.”

Dean thought himself to be quite liberated, but he was of the firm belief that certain lines should simply not be crossed. And the fact Castiel was licking his lips while staring in his direction was stepping on every single one of them.

“I have a strap-on,” Meg commented casually.

Yeah, there went another line. But at least Dean was surprised enough to tear his eyes away from Castiel to stare at her with the same face. She wasn’t talking to him, but to Castiel.

“If you’re thinking about fucking Dean into an epiphany, then I want in,” she said, taking a drag from the joint and offering it to Dean. “You’re too pretty to pass up the chance.”

Dean was thinking that was enough of weed for himself that night.

“You guys are insane,” he muttered, sitting up and waiting for the room to stop spinning so he could get the hell out of dodge before there was any more talking about inserting things into any of his orifices.

“Oh, come on,” Meg laughed. “What happened to Dean Winchester, sexual adventurer extraordinaire?”

“Dean Winchester, who never says no to a new experience?” Castiel joked.

“Fuck you,” Dean mumbled as he staggered towards the door.

“Well, come here and we will!” Meg shouted. “Nobody likes a tease, Winchester!”

Their laughter accompanied Dean all the way to the elevator, and even into the street where it was obvious that they had become a product of his altered imagination. The worse of all was that all that chat had woken little Dean up, so Dean was considering going to a bar and find someone (a _girl_ , with like… boobs and stuff, because nothing against Cas, but he _wasn’t_ like that) to have fun with. But then it turned out that the urges of his cock were nothing compared to the urges of his stomach. So Dean spent his Saturday night trying to calm down his munchies by devouring everything that was in his fridge.

Well, Castiel and Meg couldn’t be having more fun that he was, right?

Wrong. He sat by Meg for their Advanced English Literature class on Monday. Usually, she was cranky because she hadn’t had the time to have breakfast and at the slightly provocation, she erupted into a rant about how they ought to include more female writers on the curriculum or something like that. But that Monday in particular, she looked extremely animated. She even smiled at him and everything.

“What’s up with you?” Dean asked, narrowing his eyes in her direction.

“I had a good weekend,” she shrugged.

“Really?” Dean crooked an eyebrow. He was pretty sure he had been there for at least two thirds of it, and he distinctly remembered they spent Friday doing a boring project for the class they shared with Castiel and then smoking some grass on the carpet.

“Well, after you left anyway,” Meg said. “Castiel was right. His cock _is_ a religious experience.”

She refused to say another word until the end of the class, which wreaked havoc in Dean’s concentration.

“Come on, it couldn’t have been that good,” he insisted as he followed Meg down the hall even though the library, in which his study group was waiting, was in a completely different direction. “What did he do?”

Meg showed him a smug smile and didn’t say a peep.

“You’re lying,” Dean concluded. “You’re just saying that to make fun of me because I passed up on your weird threesome proposal.”

“Think whatever you like,” Meg replied in a mocking singsong tone.

Dean tried to convince himself he was right. Castiel and Meg? Megstiel? That was just weird.

He still couldn’t stop himself from staring at his friend during study group, and shifting uncomfortably in his chair every time Castiel held a pen between his teeth.

“Is there something wrong, Dean?” he asked once they’d said goodbye to the others and were out of the library.

“No!” Dean lied. “Absolutely nothing wrong! Why’d you think that?”

Castiel crooked an eyebrow again, but he didn’t say a word. It was so strange, seeing him standing there with his wool vest and his glasses being a total dork, knowing exactly the kind of thing he was willing to do in private…

“So Meg was bragging early about how she got in your pants,” Dean commented, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.

“Ah, yes,” Castiel smirked. “After you… excused yourself, our conversation took a turn for the physical. Is that why you’ve been acting so weird?”

“I’m not acting weird, you’re acting weird,” Dean said, not even trying to stop and think that was a weird thing to answer. “I mean, Meg? Really?”

“We have a lot in common,” Castiel shrugged. “She’s a very open-minded person.”

“Wait, so you’re saying I’m _not_ open-minded?”

It was only after the words had left his mouth that Dean realized that sounded as if he too wanted to sleep with Castiel. Which was not the case. Not at all. They were friends. It wasn’t like that.

He stood there panicking because of what Castiel might think of him for about an entire minute. His friend tilted his head, like he did when he was confused.

“I don’t understand, Dean,” he said. “We did offer you to participate.”

“But that was just high talk,” Dean protested. “You couldn’t have possibly meant that, I mean we were all…”

“Well, then, now that we’re sober, I’d like to extend the invitation again,” Castiel said simply, like it was the most natural thing to be discussing on a Monday morning in broad day light in the middle of the campus where any passing professor could hear them. “I’m sure Meg will agree to it as well, if you were to accept.”

“Right,” Dean said, hoping his face didn’t look as red and heated as it felt. “I’m going to go now.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Castiel continued, this time looking slightly concerned.

“Y-you didn’t… you didn’t…” Dean stammered. He stumbled onto a couple of freshmen who cussed at him for making them drop their books, but he was so mortified at that point that the only thing he could do was turn around and run like hell.

Well, that had not been smooth at all. And even less smooth than that was the way he avoided both Meg and Cas for the next couple of days like they were the plague, even missing a couple of classes to not bump into them. But honestly, what could he tell them exactly? “Hey, sorry I’m acting like a douche, but you guys keep inviting me to sexual encounters I am maybe a little bit curious about but I’m not really sure I’ll like and it’s all very awkward right now, because I never even considered having sex with another guy even if there’s a woman involved, and I don’t know what that says about me and oh, my God, stop staring at me!”

Dean stopped because he realized the only one staring at him was his reflection in the mirror and he had been talking out loud for the past five minutes. Welp, he was definitely losing it.

What was he so nervous about, really? The next study group was the following day, Thursday, and all he had to do was tell Castiel that he definitely wasn’t interested, and he was certain his friend would drop the issue and never bring it up again. He was respectful like that. Meg would tease him for a couple more weeks, probably, but she’ll eventually find something else to make fun of.

Yeah, he was definitely going to do that. He needed to get over himself.

What he did not expect was that Castiel would arrive late to the study group, with his hair in disarray and apologizing profusely. He had obviously run like his life depended on it, and as a result, his face was red and sweaty, and he kept trying to catch his breath. There was no denying there was something incredibly attractive in the way his chapped lips were parted, and were his fingers always that long and delicate?

So after seeing his friend like that, Dean came to one conclusion: he might not have been interested, but little Dean definitely was. He put a hand on Castiel’s forearm as they were leaving the library.

“Okay,” he said, only half registering what he was saying.

“Okay?” Castiel repeated, frowning.

“Okay, I’d like to… you know,” Dean said. He would have blush, but all his blood was still flooding in a different direction. “If you guys still want to…”

Castiel raised his eyebrows, understanding.

“Well, of course,” he said. “Come to my place tomorrow night, and… we’ll see what happens.”

He left even before Dean had time to process what he had agreed to.

So Dean spent the better part of Friday freaking out. Should he take something? Should he prepare himself in any special way? Should he call ahead and say he had changed his mind? That seemed like the most sensible option.

But then again, Meg wouldn’t let him hear the end of it, and besides, by the time he was standing in front of Castiel’s door… he discovered he didn’t really want to back down from this.

“Welcome, Dean,” Castiel smiled when he opened for him. “We were waiting for you.”

Dean didn’t say anything, because his throat was closed. Castiel was wearing the same thing as always: his jeans and white shirt, sans the wool vest. He was barefoot and had his hair was again pointing in every direction. When Dean entered the living room, he discovered Meg, also barefoot, sitting on the couch. Her hair and make-up were also messed up.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” she laughed, before taking a swig from a bottle of beer that had obviously been forgotten on the carpet.

“You guys started without me?” Dean tried to joke.

“Oh, don’t feel bad about it,” she said. “We were just doing some preheating before the main event.”

She winked, and Dean swallowed loudly at the idea that _he_ was the main event.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Castiel said, emerging from the kitchen with another beer bottle for him.

Dean wasn’t exactly sure how to do that, but after he’d taken a gulp of beer, he moved to the couch next to Meg. She was wearing a blouse and a very short skirt that displayed her shapely legs, that she immediately pulled up on the couch so she dragged herself a little closer to him. She started running her fingers through his hair and nuzzling his neck, and to Dean’s surprise, he actually started calming down under her touch. Meg was a beautiful girl who wanted to get on with him. That was familiar territory. That he knew how to do.

In the meantime, Castiel was moving around the living room, lighting up some candles and an incense stick that soon filled the room with a soft, flowery scent.

“Really? You’re going all out with the ritual, religious thing, huh?” Dean tried to joke, but it felt flat between his little moans because Meg was nibbling his ear.

“I figure you need all the help you can get,” Castiel replied, before going to the couch to sit at Dean’s left. “You have to let go of your inhibitions, Dean.”

“I think that bridge was crossed and burnt to hell when I actually showed up here,” Dean said, suddenly a little intimidated under the intensity of Castiel’s blue gaze. The fact that Meg was slowly sliding her hand up his shirt wasn’t helping his concentration either.

“You’re a nervous wreck,” Castiel determined, shaking his head. “If you’re going to enjoy what we have prepared for you tonight, you have to relax.”

He cupped Dean’s cheek with his hand, making him jolt a little. When he moved closer, he did so very slowly, like Dean was a terrified little animal that would start running at the first sign of a sudden movement.

“Give in,” Castiel whispered, so close to his face Dean could feel his breath grazing him. “There’s nothing to be ashamed or scared of. We’re not going to judge you, Dean. We’re your friends. We want you to feel good.”

His voice had adopted a soothing, hypnotic rhythm, and Dean found himself getting lost in it. In the meantime, Meg’s hand had wondered further underneath his shirt and was now drawing small circles over his chest. Her lips were leaving ghost kisses over his neck, at the same time Castiel caressed his cheeks, his forehead, his chin, using barely his fingertips.

Dean closed his eyes and let the light, delicate touches continue, basking in the affection he was receiving. His members started going limp with every breath he took, aspiring the incense that tickled his nose. When he had the feeling that he was going to fall asleep, somebody begin pulling his shirt. A shivered went down his spine, and there was a moment of _holy-shit-this-is-actually-happening_ in his mind before he obediently put his arms up and allowed whoever it was to take it off.

And that’s when he realized there were now two mouths following the lines of his jaw, his collar bone, his pecks.

“Nice tat,” Meg commented on his ear, which could only mean the mouth currently sucking a hickie on the crook of his neck had to be Cas’. He opened his eyes, but amazingly, he was no longer anxious about the whole deal. It felt natural. It felt alright in a way that made him wonder why he hadn’t done that before.

“Meg has one of her own,” Castiel commented. “Why don’t you show him?”

Meg’s smirk was downright devilish as she pulled her shirt off and turned around so Dean could take a look at her back. There was a line of birds flying across her shoulder blades, right next to her black bra strap.

“Cute,” Dean commented, before tracing them with his fingers and casually sliding the strap down.

Meg only laughed, so Dena took it as an invitation. He leaned over towards her, lassoing her waist, and left a peck right in the spot where her neck and her back met. Meg turned her to look over her shoulder, and her mouth finally met his. Her kiss was hungry, fervent, and she didn’t hold anything back: she went in tongue and all, passing an arm around Dean’s neck to pull him even deeper into it. In response, he slid a hand up to cup one of her breasts over her bra. He was so distracted with what he was doing, that he barely realized Castiel had slid a hand over his pants and was palming his growing erection over his jeans.

He broke the kiss with a jolt.

“Sorry,” he said when both Meg and Castiel froze. “I, uh…”

“Do you want us to stop, Dean?” Castiel offered.

Dean opened his mouth. The truth was that until after a second he was having a good time. Why did he keep stopping himself? The both of were staring at him, Castiel with concern in his face, Meg with a crooked, expectant eyebrow, and the truth of the matter was:

“No,” Dean said. “I don’t want to stop. I just… I’ll… just give me a sec.”

Castiel put his hands on his cheeks again and gently moved his face so they were looking into each other’s eyes now.

“Listen to me,” he said. “If you want this, then why are you denying yourself?”

“I… I don’t know,” Dean admitted, slightly awkward at the intensity of Castiel’s gaze.

“You need to stop overthinking,” Castiel said, again using that low, hypnotic tone. “There’s nothing wrong with what is happening here. Breath deep. Empty your mind. Close your eyes.”

Dean half-wanted to make a joke about who had died and made him the boss, but he couldn’t find it in him. Instead, he started obeying without any more hesitation. Because Castiel was right, he did want this. He wanted them both caressing him and covering him in kisses like they had not ten minutes before. He wanted…

Castiel’s mouth clashed against him, and his train of thoughts went completely off the rails. He was delicate, biting and nibbling Dean’s lower lip tenderly, as if asking an insecure question. Dean decided that if he was going to go through with this, he wasn’t about to half-ass it. He slung a leg over Castiel’s lap, and before he knew it, he was grinding himself against his friend to get some much needed friction, grabbing onto his hair, his shirt, anything that he could hold onto.

It was mind blowing in the best kind of way. Dean had met guys in the past, guys who woke certain kind of desires in him, but he’d pushed those thoughts and feelings away without ever indulging in them. He never thought he would be _allowed_ to. It was like someone had flipped a switch inside his mind, and he was on the edge of discovering something about himself…

Castiel pushed him very softly. Before Dean had a chance to be disappointed, Castiel looked away.

“Meg?” he inquired.

“I’m fine, boys,” she replied. “Please, don’t stop on my account.”

There was not a single trace of sarcasm in her voice, which would be a first, so Dean turned to her as well. She was leaning against the couch’s arm, biting her lips as she watched closely what they were doing. She had lifted up her skirt even higher, and had a hand down her panties.

But Castiel obviously wanted everyone to be in on the fun, because he suggested: “Why don’t you show Dean what you brought?”

“You sure he’s ready for that?” Meg asked. “Because a second ago he was freaking out about you touching him.”

“Well, that is what tonight is all about,” Castiel replied, placing his hand on Dean’s lower back as if to reassure him. “Self-discovery. Pushing limits you didn’t know were there. Pleasure.”

The last word was practically a purr on the tip of his tongue, and Dean shivered when he said it.

“Woah, Cas,” he said. “You’re seriously doing the whole guru of love skit here.”

“Is there a problem with that?” Castiel asked, arching an eyebrow, and sliding his hand further down to rest it against Dean’s ass.

“Not really,” he swallowed, feeling the knot of nervousness return to his stomach.

Luckily for him, Castiel was not about to let go of control over the whole situation just like that. He started kissing Dean again, this time letting his hands wonder down to unbuckle Dean’s belt and undo the zip of his jeans. Dean moaned against his mouth when Castiel’s fingers came into contact with his cock, and moaned even louder when he felt Meg’s hand cupping his ass cheek at the same time something cold poked him on the back.

“The hell…?” he muttered, turning a round, and for a second, he was about to freak out again.

Meg had getting rid of the rest of her clothes, and was standing right behind him, a mischievous grin in her face. She was wearing a sort of leather belt that covered her pussy, with a penis-shaped plastic shaft firmly attached to it.

“Okay, what is that for?” Dean asked, buggy-eyed.

“Make a wild guess,” Meg said. “Here’s a clue,” she added, gripping his ass tighter.

“You’re not getting that thing inside of me,” Dean said, jumping a little.

“Would you rather me do it?” Castiel asked, like it was the logical conclusion to that.

Dean didn’t think that was possible with how hard he was, but there was actually enough blood in him to blush at the idea.

“I-I would rather…” he mumbled, not entirely sure what he would rather do, exactly.

“Come on, Dean-o,” Meg insisted, slowly starting to drop down to her knees. “I promise you, you’re gonna end up begging me.”

“I… I…” Dean tried to say again, but Castiel was already pushing him a little so that his ass hanged over the edge of the couch at the same time he pulled his jeans and boxers off.

Dean started another protest that didn’t reach his throat. One, because Castiel shut him up with another heated kiss, and second, because Meg was peppering little pecks in his lower back, and still cupping his ass cheeks firmly with her hands. Before he had the chance to even imagine what she was up to, Meg pushed them apart and Dean felt the contact of her mouth directly over his hole.

And then he just lost it. The sensory overload was too much, with Castiel ravishing his necks, his Adam apple, at the same time Meg sucked and licked and all around _tortured_ him. It felt sloppy and a bit weird at first, but as soon as got used to the sensation, all he could do was hang on to Cas’ shoulders for dear life and moan and cry like a little bitch. By the time Meg slid a single finger inside her crack along with her tongue, Dean was humping the air, lightheaded and desperate, but Castiel refused to even touch his cock.

“Not yet,” he muttered in his ear in between kisses. “You’re doing very well, Dean. Breath. Don’t come just yet. It’s going to be better later, I promise.”

Dean had no idea how that could even happen, because he was already hard rock and sweating all over, but he tried to follow Castiel’s advice even when Meg added a second finger started stretching him ever so slowly.

“I can’t…” Dean whimpered. “I-I can’t… Meg, please, I…”

For the first time, Meg’s free hand left his waist and reached for his dick, stroking its length with a single finger. Meg moved her face away from Dean’s ass with a gasp of surprise.

“Cas, feel this,” she said. “He’s about to explode.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Castiel said, shaking his head. “None of us have fucked him yet.”

Dean almost sobbed at those words. He understood the implication that they weren’t going to let him come, not unless he chose. But at least know he had a second of clarity he was realizing that Castiel hadn’t lost a single item of clothing through this whole ordeal, and though his cheeks were flushed and his erection was noticeable through his pants, he remained cool as a cucumber. The smug bastard.

“Meg,” Dean said, suddenly. “Meg can…”

“What’s that?” Meg asked, with a satisfied note in her voice.

“I said you can fuck me, alright?” Dean repeated. He was most definitely not begging for it, thought if something didn’t give him release soon, he was pretty sure he was going to lose his mind.

“Well, get down here, pretty boy,” Meg instructed him, pulling her fingers out of him. “I haven’t been getting your ass ready for nothing.”

Dean kneeled on the carpet in front of Castiel, making sure to leave his hands over his thighs as Meg shifted behind him so her dildo was lining directly towards his hole.

“Breath deep now,” she whispered in his ear, her hand reaching around his chest to pinch one of his nipples. “This is when the fun starts.”

Despite Meg’s preparations and Dean’s repeated breathing in, it still hurt when she got it inside of him. Dean cried out with his face hiding in Castiel’s lap, completely overwhelmed for a second or two. Then Meg hit right on the spot, and suddenly his body was trembling and he was becoming dizzy again.

“That’s a good boy,” Castiel said, running his fingers through Dean’s damped hair. “You’re doing great.”

That returned a semblance of sanity to Dean’s raving mind. With shaking fingers, he reached for Castiel’s buckle.

“What are you doing?” Castiel asked, a little taken aback.

“Leave him,” Meg said, as she slowly pushed further still. “It’s about time he put his soft little mouth to work.”

Dean found it amazing that Meg had guessed exactly what he was going to do, yet Castiel still looked down at him with a disconcerted frown. His pupils were almost completely dilated now, with barely a halo of blue in them, and his mouth was parted, perhaps to ask another question. Dean didn’t give him time. He unzipped Castiel’s pants and pulled his underwear. His dick was released with an obscene bob, and Dean felt his mouth watering. Castiel was finally catching up to what was going to happen, because again he put a hand on Dean’s cheek.

“Are you sure…?” he began.

Without breaking eye contact, Dean swirled his tongue around the tip of Castiel’s cock. It tasted salty and strange, and Dean was not entirely sure what he was doing, but the sound that fell from Castiel’s lips was encouraging enough to indicate he was doing something right. He continued taking him in his mouth until his gag reflex kicked in, and when he backed down, his ass collapsed against Meg’s body, making the dildo hit his prostate once more.

“Oh, I like that!” Meg laughed. “Do it again!”

Dean didn’t need to be told twice. He started sucking Castiel’s dick at the same time he bounced against Meg’s strap on. She had her hands on his hips to guide him, and Castiel grabbed the back of his head to keep him steady, but aside from that, Dean was the only one who was moving, rocking back and forward between the two. It was the most obscene, degrading thing he had done in his entire life, and he loved every second of it. He loved the texture of Castiel’s dick in his mouth, and how the pain in his butt was slowly being pushed aside by an astonishing ecstasy.

But what he loved the most was the noises the two of them were making. After having been the only one who had been loudly moaning like a whore the entire evening, it was fascinating to hear Meg groaning every time he moved against her, and Castiel breathing words of encouragement to him.

“Dean, you’re… you’re doing so well…” he panted. “Yes… Dean, oh, God…”

He was doing that, Dean thought with a strange sense of pride. He was satisfying the both of them, he was giving and receiving at the same time, he had never…

Before he could complete the thought, his mind went blank, invaded by an overwhelming bliss. A second later he was screaming while his cum spurted out, staining his legs and the carpet beneath him. He heard a cackle behind him, as Meg reached around his waist to touch his cock, like she wanted to squeeze every last drop of it out of him. Dean’s muscles were shaking like they were about to give in at any second now, because his mind was in no condition to order his body to stay in place.

Meg and Castiel give him exactly five seconds to recuperate. Then they kept pushing and pulling to him until Meg came with a cry, and Castiel spilled deep inside Dean’s throat.

 

* * *

 

Dean woke up with sore muscles, scraped knees and a hand right over his aching ass. Growling, he opened his eyes to find he had fallen asleep right over Castiel’s chest and that he hand around his waist to squeeze his ass slightly. On the other side of the bed, Meg was fast asleep with her back turned to the two of them.

“Good morning,” Castiel said, looking all content and sexy with his bed hair pointing on every direction.

“Okay, you can drop the smile,” Dean groaned, blinking and yawning. “You were right, I was wrong, that what you wanted to hear?”

“I am not entirely sure what you mean,” Castiel lied, still smiling at Dean. “But thank you.”

Dean was not in the mood for Castiel’s attitude at that our in the morning, and much less to hear Meg’s snicker coming from the other side of the bed.

“So do you believe in God now?” she asked, mockingly.

“Well, no,” Dean sighed. “But I did… learn something about myself.”

Castiel stared at him, as if inviting him to go on. Dean groaned again. He might as well say it, because it was obvious the two weren’t going to drop the issue.

“I… find out I might be into guys as well.” There.

“No shit!” Meg said. “What was your first clue?”

“Play nice, Meg,” Castiel scolded her. Meg whined that she didn’t know how to do that and sank her face in the pillow to keep sleeping. Castiel shook his head and turned his attention back to Dean. “Well, I am happy we were able to help you overcome your denial. Are you staying for breakfast?”

“Oh, breakfast,” Meg mumbled. “That sounds nice. I want that.”

Dean laughed a little and turned around to find his cellphone on the table. It was way too early, he wouldn’t be able to find a taxi or a bus, and frankly, he didn’t think he could walk. Like, ever again.

“Yeah, breakfast,” he shrugged. “Count me in.”

Castiel rolled over Dean and stood up on the other side of the bed, stretching his arm happily and making sure Dean had a front view of his ass before moving towards the kitchen.

“Well, that’s a pretty way to wake up,” Meg commented, sitting up on the mattress. She also hadn’t bothered with clothes, and all that skin was giving Dean an idea.

“So I finished all my due papers and have nothing to do,” he commented, almost casually. “Do you?”

“Nothing I can’t do overnight thanks to the magic of caffeine,” Meg replied. “Why? What you got in mind?”

“I was thinking maybe we could make a weekend out of this,” Dean suggested. “You think Cas will be on board with that?”

A smirk appeared on Meg’s sleepy face.

“I think he’ll be delighted.”


End file.
